


Restaurant Ordeals

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 20:25:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9255179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Top chef Castiel has made it his mission to save America's failing restaurants, no matter how bad.(Aka the Kitchen Nightmares AU)





	

**_Day 1_ **

 

"What is this shit?"

Sam winces.

"No, really. What the fuck _is this_?"

"It's, uh, coque au vin?" Sam says dutifully, almost but not quite keeping the question out of his voice. He knew the food wasn't perfect. Hell, he knew it wasn't always good. But this is the third dish in a row the critic has ripped apart.

The critic is rubbing at his eyes and groaning now. "Didn't you say the ingredients are fresh?"

"I thought they were..."

"You're an owner, aren't you? When's the last time you had a look 'round the back?"

"That's Dean's area, really. I try to stay out of it."

If Sam had thought that would get him out of trouble, he would be sorely mistaken.

"'Dean's area'? I'm sorry, but I was under the impression that you two were equal partners."

"We are."

"Then how the fuck did you let this get so bad?" Castiel lets out a breath, and his voice softens. "You're a smart man, Samuel. I can see that. So I know you know this is bad. But it's not the end of the world, not yet. Take me back to see the kitchen- and this brother of yours."

Sam nods quickly. The faster he gets Castiel to the source of the restaurant's problems, the better.

 

****

 

Castiel has been on the road for more than eight hours today. He just finished cleaning up a sushi bar in New York, but his producers were adamant about him coming out here ASAP. If he had to guess, Castiel would say that has something to do with one of his staffers knowing the family running the Roadhouse. Charlie is invaluable to his internet presence or whatever, and if hurrying out to Nowhere, Nebraska makes her happy, then out Castiel goes.

Reaching up to the dashcam, he turns the power on.

"Well, here we are in Central Nebraska. This week's project is Harvelle's Roadhouse. A family-run restaurant owned by Ellen Harvelle, the actual running is done by her daughter, Jo. It was Jo who called me in."

Turning off the highway, Castiel takes the exit for the Roadhouse- and, critically, the meet-up point with Jo. He doesn't have to drive more than half an hour before he sees the sign for the restaurant where he will be picking Jo up.

"Jo Harvelle is a young manager," Castiel tells the camera, "barely in her early twenties, but I'm inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt. She saw there were problems, had the foresight to call in help, and grew up working in the Roadhouse. That's more than many managers twice her age have managed, as we've seen. Let's see what she has to say."

Turning into the parking lot, Castiel picks Jo out immediately. Blonde and slender and dressed casually, Jo is the only person shifting her weight back and forth- and when she sees Castiel's little hybrid, she comes running. She doesn't even let him get out, just hops right into the passenger seat.

"You must be Castiel," she says breathlessly.

Castiel nods. "Yes, I'm-"

"Awesome! Thank you so much for coming." Honest thankfulness is almost pouring off her, and Castiel finds himself taking an immediate liking to her. Usually he meets resistance or people so jaded he doubts they even care anymore. Not Jo, though. She's got the snappy air of someone who's ready to work.

"Not a problem," Castiel tells her as he puts the car back in gear. "Tell me a little about the restaurant."

"It was my dad's originally," Jo says gamely. "When he died, it went to my mom. She wanted to sell it, but I didn't." She lets out a weak laugh. "I still don't know what changed her mind."

"You did."

"What?"

"Obviously, you care about this business. I'm sure your mother sensed that."

"You think so?"

"I'm certain. So tell me what you think the problem is."

"The Winchesters- Sam and Dean."

 _That was fast._ "And who are they?"

"Well, their dad knew my dad- technically the two of them co-owned the Roadhouse. Sam and Dean could have contested my mom owning it, but since everyone knows my dad had a heart attack because John disappeared and left him with everything, I guess they thought it would be better if they didn't."

Castiel feels his brows creep up his forehead. He's used to drama, but this is another level entirely.

"Anyway, I started having problems with the staff right off the bat. They thought they could get away with a lot of stuff since it was me and not my dad, you know?" She flicks a glance at him, and Castiel nods. He's had similar experiences. "Well, I had to fire them eventually, but that left me without a head cook or a host. That was when Sam and Dean got in contact- they said they'd heard what happened, and they wanted to help. Of course I said yes. I remembered them from when I was little, before John left, and even though my mom was skeptical, I thought they'd be good."

"But they aren't," Castiel surmises.

Jo shakes her head. "They're awful. And I know they don't mean to be, but they are. God, they sometimes fight in front of customers. I don't want to fire them- and not just because I couldn't find replacements- but the complaints are getting out of hand..."

Castiel nods his understanding and places a consoling hand on Jo's shoulder. "You've had a lot to deal with," he says as gently as he can. "And you've had to do it on your own- I'm guessing you haven't told Mom." She shakes her head. "I'm here now, all right? We'll sort this out together."

That's what finally cues the tears. Cas tries not to seem too uncomfortable without ignoring the road. This is going to be a tough one. He can tell.

 

****

 

The kitchen staff is all lined up in front of Castiel. Sam knows right away from the set of his brother's jaw that this isn't going to be easy.

Castiel tilts his head. "So you're Dean."

Dean nods.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

One of Dean's eyebrows quirks. "Excuse me?"

"The food you put out just now was inexcusable. Dry, drenched in a nasty sauce as if you could cover it up, obviously not fresh... What are you doing in that apron?"

Sam bites back a sigh. Not easy at all.

Dean folds his arms across his chest. "Bull."

Castiel gestures at the disaster of a kitchen around them. Even Sam, who never learned anything about cooking, knows the state of things back here is bad. "This place is a mess. You obviously don't care."

"Now wait just a minute. You don't get to come in here and tell me I don't care."

"Why not?" Castiel waves a hand at the stacks of dishes on the floor. "Anyone with eyes can see you've given up."

"I have not," Dean growls, digging in his heels. "Tell him, Sammy."

Faced with what he had to taste out in the dining room and what he sees now, Sam can only shrug helplessly. "Dean... you have to admit that this looks bad."

"We got slammed!"

"By five orders?" Castiel asks sharply. "You should be feeding at least four times that. The only part of this place that's carrying its weight is the bar- and that's probably only because customers need to drink to forget the shit you just made your brother serve them."

Dean's eyes go wide. "I would never- I wouldn't do that to Sammy."

"But you did. You wouldn't make him eat what you serve. Would you?"

Sam has to look at the floor as Dean tries and fails to find an out. "That isn't-"

"Well, I had him eat it, and he turned green. You're feeding this crap to other people, Dean. You're poisoning other people's brothers. Is that what you want?"

Panic over, Dean draws himself up. "Of course not."

"Then you won't mind me looking through your stock."

"Go ahead."

Sam watches in dismay and sick disbelief as Castiel pulls one disgusting tray out after another. Slimy seafood shares space with uncooked chicken shares space with cooked steaks and frozen who-the-fuck-knows. Castiel runs a finger along the inside of the fridge, and Jo actually runs away and vomits.

"You're not a chef, are you?" Castiel demands from where he's bent over a bucket of moldy fruit. "Are you?"

And that's it.

"You know what? No, I'm not." Dean rips off his apron and throws it on the floor before storming out.

Jo calls after him, but Castiel tells her to let him go.

"He'll be back for dinner."

Sam nods, though how this guy who's only known Dean long enough to rip into him could know that is a mystery.

 

****

 

Curled up comfortably on his hotel bed, Castiel thinks back over the day. There's more going on in the Roadhouse than meets the eye. Of that, he's certain. And whatever it is, it involves the Winchester brothers.

Dinner was an even bigger mess. Dean did come back, but he was no better than he had been earlier. They served maybe eight tables, and Dean was overwhelmed from the start. Sam wasn't much better. He could charm the tables well enough ar first, but he would almost inevitably wind up arguing with them when he should have been apologizing and comping their "meals". How two men who supposedly grew up working in a restaurant can be so amateurish is beyond Castiel.

Dean in particular confounds him. He does care about what he does, but it's as if he's trying to make recipes he's never worked with before. But when Castiel checked with Jo, she was certain Dean was the one who made the menu.

This place is a mess, Castiel thinks sadly, and so are the people working in it.

 

****

 

Dean grabs a beer with Sam after Castiel and the crew leave.

"Am I that bad?" he asks.

Sam sighs. "Dean..."

"I'm using Dad's recipes," Dean insists. "They're a little beyond what these guys are used to eating. Maybe they just aren't used to fine dining."

"Maybe they aren't, but, Dean, I am. Jessica and I used to eat somewhere nice together every week. And what you served today... That wasn't fine dining. That was just bad."

Scratching at his head, Dean groans. "I just wanted to help Jo out, not make things worse."

Sam pats his shoulder. "I know you did. You always just want to help."

 

 

 

**_Day 2_ **

 

Castiel arrives early the next morning and greets everyone with a dumpster. "Good morning," he calls as they stumble across the parking lot, bleary eyed and not made up. "Today we're closed, because it's time for an overdue cleaning. Everybody- including the wait staff- is helping out today. We're mopping, we're undusting, we're vacuuming, we're polishing... Everything you guys haven't been doing all along, we're doing today."

 

****

 

Through a twist of fate, Dean winds up working with Castiel. The guy didn't just toss out assignments and disappear. He's actually wearing ratty jeans and working a mop just like Dean. And he hasn't complained about it. He didn't even called Dean a pig for some of the nasty stuff they found. He just got down on his hands and knees and worked the spot until it was clean.

At one point in their otherwise quiet cleaning, though, Castiel does ask, "Dean, can you name the four mother sauces?"

"Mother whats?" Dean asks curiously.

"Sauces."

"No, I guess I can't. Why? Is that another mark of me being lazy?"

Castiel shakes his head. "Not at all. I was simply wondering if you knew."

Dean doesn't think about the question again until long after Castiel has patted him on the back and declared the kitchen fit to cook in. By then, though, he's too tired to do anything other than flop down in bed and fall fast asleep.

 

 

 

**_Day 3_ **

 

Castiel orders the restaurant closed for the second day in a row. The morning, he tells the staff, will be for him to meet with Sam. The afternoon, then, will be for him to work with Dean. The staff trades wary looks, but Castiel doesn't pay them any mind. He has a theory, and if he's right, it will change everything.

 

****

 

Sam takes about five minutes to crack. He knows what's happening as it happens, but he's helpless against it. No one has asked in a long time, too long, and it's good to finally get it off his chest.

"I hate working here," he admits. "I never wanted to work in a restaurant. Dad was pissed when I said I was going to become a lawyer- he even threatened to disown me- but I knew it was the right choice."

"What stopped you?"

"My fiancee was killed," Sam says, his voice threatening to break. When he risks a look at Castiel, he finds himself looking at someone who's sharing his grief. It's as if the cameras aren't there; it's just Sam and the man who has quickly gone from foul mouthed judge to something almost like a friend.

"You wanted the familiarity," Castiel surmises.

"It was Dean's idea. He was always torn about me not taking over the family business, but I thought he was right when he suggested I come back. It was only supposed to be for a few months, a year tops..."

Castiel nods and pats Sam's shoulder. "You're ready to go back, aren't you?"

"Yeah, but I can't just leave Dean. He doesn't do well on his own."

"Leave Dean to me."

"You know he can't-"

"I think I know what Dean needs," Castiel interrupts. "Trust me on this, all right?"

Sam nods, and for the first time in a long time, he thinks maybe things will work out all right after all.

 

****

 

Dean is ready for Castiel. He isn't going to be that guy who cries. He isn't going to have a breakdown just because some stranger gives him a little validation- and, yeah, he's seen the show before. He knows how this works.

Which is why he isn't sure what to make of it when Castiel takes him to a supermarket and says, "Using anything you see here, I want you to make me your signature dish. You on a plate, if you will."

Another show Dean has seen is Hellfire Kitchen. He knows what Castiel thinks of dessert for a signature dish. _Well, screw him,_ Dean thinks viciously as he marches off in search of apples.

Two hours later, Dean cuts two large slices of his mother's apple pie. He waits for the derision, but all Castiel says is, "I like the lattice. Expertly done." Then he takes a bite.

"Good?" Dean asks despite himself.

"The best apple pie I've ever had," Castiel says easily. "Unfortunately, it does confirm one thing about you for me."

"What's that?"

"You aren't a cook."

"But you said-"

"This-" Castiel taps his crust with his fork, "-is the work of an accomplished baker, or a pastry chef. It is not the work of the type of chef you need in a restaurant. But you knew that already."

"You got all that from a question about sauces and a pie?"

"And your tendency to use a microwave." Setting down his fork, Castiel sighs. "Who taught you to bake, Dean?"

"My mother."

"And your father?"

"I thought if I could bake pies okay, I could make his recipes."

"Let me guess: you're not very good at cooking meat."

Dean hangs his head and runs his hands over his face. "I'm hopeless."

"You aren't. But what about that line cook of yours? He seemed to have an idea of what he was doing."

"Who, Benny? Yeah, he's worked a lot of odd jobs. He said he likes working with meat, so I thought I could get him to do most of it..."

Nodding his understanding, Castiel goes back to his pie. "I think I know what has to happen here."

 

 

 

**_Day 4_ **

 

"Here are the changes that are going to be enacted," Castiel announces. "The head server, Ash, will be moving permanently over to the bar." A cheer goes up from the servers, with Ash's voice the loudest. "Next, Sam will be going back to law school- no arguments. I mean this in the best possible way: you don't belong here." Another cheer goes up. "With Sam gone, the front of the house will need looking after. Dean, that's your new job. You'll be greeting customers, handling complaints, and generally keeping the mood up. Except in the morning, when you'll be the in-house pastry chef." The staff claps enthusiastically, while Benny lets out a whoop.

"Sorry, brother," he says a moment later, "but you're an awful cook." Dean snorts and gives him a playful shove.

Castiel clears his throat, and everyone settles down. "Now that we've hopefully cleared that mess up, we're left with two problems: the menu and the decor."

This gets mixed responses. Most of the servers are pleased, but Dean and Jo look shaken. "I know you're attached to the current look, but I need you to think of the future. We aren't the restaurant we were before. We deserve a facelift to match our new tits, don't we?"

The joke loosens the atmosphere, and with a glance at each other, Dean and Jo nod slowly.

"Excellent! Now get out. The professionals have a lot of work to do."

 

 

 

**_Day 5_ **

 

The outside of the Roadhouse was fine, so the team was able to focus on the interior. Besides saving time- and money- this has the secondary benefit of leaving all the surprises at once.

Castiel leads the wary group toward the door, which he holds open while ushering them inside. Dean is the last to go in, no doubt cowed by all the screaming coming from inside.

"To the future," Castiel reminds him. "We're better than we were before."

"Right." Dean wets his lips but steps forward and into the new and improved Roadhouse.

Castiel follows him inside and immediately gets attacked by Jo.

"It's perfect," she says into his jacket. "Everything is absolutely perfect."

Smiling, not a little bit in relief, Castiel pats her back. "I told you to trust me, didn't I? My team knew what they were doing."

She pulls back, wiping at her eyes, and nods.

The new Roadhouse is more open than the last, with a wood floor that doesn't squeak or have nails coming up. There are more tables to accommodate the increase in customers Castiel is certain will come when they reopen, and all the furniture is sturdy, smooth wood.

"Look good?" he asks Dean, who has been staring silently for a long time.

"I think you broke him," Jo says softly. She walks away a moment later, summoned to the bar by an excited Ash, which leaves Dean and Castiel alone.

Dean's eyes are wide and a little wild, but his mouth is open in a massive grin that mirrors the one on his brother's face. Here, now that the two are relaxing, Castiel can see the similarities between them. Dean has heavier features, but they lift when he smiles, and without his perpetual frown, Sam has a light in his eyes comparable to Dean's.

"It looks good," Dean says hoarsely. "Really good."

"In that case, all we have to worry about is opening night."

Dean groans. "You had to say it."

"I did."

Shaking his head, Dean throws an arm around Castiel's shoulders and hauls him in. "You know what, Cas? I think we'll be all right."

"Then let's see what you think of your new, burger-centric menu."

Dean's eyes fly open, and he tows Castiel after him toward the kitchen to the sound of everyone else laughing.

 

 

 

**_Day 6_ **

 

The reopening is, to put it mildly, a success. Castiel winds up having to support Benny in the kitchen, but only because there are just too many orders for one cook. Even Castiel would struggle to keep up. Benny hasn't been a head chef, but he assumes the role with grace, ordering Castiel about clearly and decisively. Dean has a few fumbles in the front but recovers quickly with Jo's help. Ash keeps any delays from sparking foul moods by keeping waiting customers' drinks full.

By the time they close, everyone is exhausted and happy. It's possibly Castiel's greatest transformation. Rather than soak in the pleasure of a job well done, he winds up going out with Dean for drinks. They sip at their beers, too high off their victory to want to be anything other than pleasantly buzzed.

They're sitting in a corner booth, secluded from the rest of the bar, shoulder to shoulder instead of face to face, when Dean turns and presses a ghost of a kiss to the corner of Castiel's mouth.

Immediately, the languor that had filled him disappears and Castiel sits up straight.

Dean hisses an angry, "Shit!"

"This is a bad idea," Castiel tells him.

"Yeah, of course. I'm an idiot. That was just-"

"I'll be back in six months," Castiel blurts. Dean shuts up. "If this isn't gratitude, you'll still want this. If not, nobody gets hurt."

"Oh." Dean thinks about that for a long moment. "You get this a lot, don't you?"

"Not as much as you'd think, but enough to know time and space can change a great deal."

"So this isn't a no."

"Correct."

Dean turns a brilliant smile on him. "I can wait."

"We'll see."

 

 

 

**_Day 7_ **

 

Castiel calls in a favor with a nearby chef who came in second on Hellfire Kitchen and gets her to take his place supporting Benny until they can find a permanent replacement.

Saying goodbye is harder than ever before. Castiel got roped into caring for this messy group of people, and he can't help but feel sad at the thought of not being here to see them continue to grow. He will be back soon, though. He's already counting down.

Sam hugs him hard and calls him an angel; Castiel tells him to get his ass back into law school. Jo cries, as does her formidable mother, who is more than grateful to Castiel for kicking the Winchesters' asses and saving her restaurant. Castiel shakes off her praise- it was her staff that did the heavy lifting. Not him.

Dean doesn't go for another kiss, which is only a touch disappointing. Instead, he shakes Castiel's hand. "See you soon, Cas," he says, not quite gruffly.

Castiel smiles. "Six months," he says in return. "We'll see how you're doing then."

 

 

 

**_Revisit_ **

 

Castiel hears the music before he even pulls in. "Well," he tells the dashcam, "they're either doing very well or they've had to sell. Let's fish out which."

The music only gets louder when he opens the door. He barely has time for his vision to adjust before something knocks into him and he's forced to take a step back.

"You're here!" Jo exclaims. "Everybody, look! It's Castiel!"

A cheer goes up, led by a wild-haired Ash. "Dean!" he shouts. "Dean, get your ass out here!"

Heart in his throat, Castiel watches the door to the kitchen swing open as Dean Winchester steps through. He's covered in flour across his front and up his forearms, and when he catches sight of Castiel, he freezes, his eyes going wide. Then he's moving fast and wrapping both arms around Castiel tight.

"I hope you don't think your little exercise was enough to get rid of me," he says into Castiel's ear. Stepping back, he runs his eyes over Castiel as if years had passed. "You look good."

"So do you."

They don't say anything more as Jo waves them over to a table. A server comes running over, and Jo doesn't ask what Castiel wants, just orders for all three of them.

"You're a little early," she explains as Castiel gets comfortable. "Most of our clientele are hunters, so we shifted our hours to accommodate them."

"Smart," he says approvingly, and she beams.

"I thought so. We even found a line cook to help Benny out permanently. I thought you might want to meet her."

As if summoned, the kitchen door opens and a familiar face walks out. Cas nearly falls out of his chair.

"Meg?" he asks, voice catching.

Dean immediately looks unhappy, but Meg merely smiles brightly and gracefully deposits their food on the table.

"Aw, so you do remember me."

"You almost killed me with that spicy aioli!"

"A slight miscalculation," she says with a wave of her hand. "Good to see you, Clarence. You look as good as ever."

"Meg," Dean interrupts. "Don't you have cooking to do?"

"Telling me to get back in the kitchen? What misogyny."

_"Meg."_

"Oh, all right. I'll go. But it really was good to see you, Castiel. You were right when you said I wasn't cut out for a head chef's position. Luckily, Anna recognized a strong line cook when she saw one, though."

Castiel watches her go with the strangest feeling if being outside his own body.

"You hired Meg the Demon," he says quietly. Then he chuckles, because it's too much. Of course they hired her. She's probably a perfect match for easy-going Benny.

Dean looks harassed as he shrugs. Jo simply snickers and picks up her plate. "Good to see you, Castiel. I've got some stuff to discuss with Ash, so why don't you and Dean catch up?"

She throws him a wink as she leaves, which doesn't take Castiel long to decode.

"You told her."

"She said I was sulking and threatened to call you," Dean grouches, which only makes Castiel laugh again.

"So," he says when he calms down, "you still think I'm a good idea?"

"I think you're a terrible idea," Dean corrects. "You travel all the time, and the gossip forums have all sorts of opinions on you. But I think you're worth the risk."

"That was... not as complimentary as I'd thought it would be."

"Your ego doesn't need stroking."

"Is that you talking or the gossip boards?"

"Why not both?"

Huffing a laugh, Castiel shakes his head. "It's good to see you again, Dean. I don't suppose you'd like to pick up where we left off?"

Expression turning sly, Dean leans in and murmurs, "You bet I would."

**Author's Note:**

> me: i'm not that big on supernatural; i'm not going to write for it  
> me, two minutes later: shit, i'm going to write for it
> 
> (this is totally unbeta-ed. it's a stupid little fic that exists solely because i don't think i've seen this au before)


End file.
